The Longest Argument
by maviscruet
Summary: Ron is cursing the fact that he ever fell in love with a muggleborn...


The Longest Argument

Ron Weasley sat on the end of his bed and let out a long breath, his eyes trained on the calendar. September 19th. He stared at it for a moment longer before shaking his head (trying to shake himself back to reality) and slowly got up. Looking out of the window, he took note of what a beautiful day it seemed, on the outside, threw on his tattered, much too often fixed jumper, still maroon, and made his way into the garden of the cottage he lived in. He dropped himself down on to the weathered garden bench heavily, and not for the first time that day, cursed himself for having fallen in love with a bloody muggle born. Who he now hadn't seen for over four years. He shook his head.

He sat for what seemed like hours; eventually the village children started to pass by on their way to school, small groups passing, chattering and laughing. Occasional flashes of red hair caught his attention, and at one point a taller red haired lad gave him a grin and waved. Ron couldn't help but smile back and gave a feeble wave. "No doubt one of mine", he thought to himself with a small chuckle.

The road cleared, the bell had rung, and after a while he felt a shadow pass over him, and heard the gate creak. He knew those footsteps! Ron looked up with a grin, feeling his heart lighten for the first time that day. Rosie. He always felt so much better when she was about. She smiled back and came to sit on the bench beside him, taking his hand. Ron felt himself relax, feeling pathetic that he needed his girl like this!

"Hello Dad! How're you today?", Rose asked tenderly.

"I'm fine" he shrugged.

"You would say that."

Silence.

"Have you seen the day today?" Rose asked, knowing full well that he would have done.

Ron nodded, staring straight ahead. "Rosie, can we…..? We could take some flowers from the garden?"

Rose nodded. "Of course Dad. But I've already been to the supermarket and bought some. You're a bloody awful gardener you know!"

Ron frowned. "You went to the supermarket? You might've said."

Rose laughed, "Oh for goodness sake, I can't believe you're still so fascinated by it! How long have you been going to them!?"

Laughing they rose from the bench and got into the car.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Ron for the second time that day collapsed heavily into a bench, joined some minutes later by Rose, clapping damp grass from her hands and knees.

"There Dad, what do you think?" she asked.

Ron took in the scene. It wasn't right. None of it was right. Shouldn't have been like this.

"It's looking lovely, Rosie"

He cast his stinging eyes over the stone before him.

HERMOINE WEASLEY

BELOVED WIFE OF RONALD WEASLEY

AND DARLING MUM OF ROSE, HUGO AND REBECCA

DIED 3RD MAY 2084, AGED 104

Rose rubbed her knees again. "It's looking brilliant!" she scoffed. "Not bad anyway, I am eighty bloody one to be fair!"

"She'd be proud of it, your mum. She was always really proud of you all, quite right too." He thought for a minute, "Some kids passed on their way to school earlier, half of them look like me! One of the older ones waved and I assume that their something to do with me, but buggered if I can remember!"

Rose laughed. "What did he look like, the one that waved?"

"Well, me! Woulda said Hogwarts age, but obviously not seeing as they were going to school here."

Rose thought. "Jamie probably. He's your double and tall too! Hazel's oldest."

"Ahhhhh." Ron nodded. The name rung a bell. "Yes. How is my Hazel?"

"My granddaughter is fine, she's coming to see you later." He smiled. Rose continued, laughing again, "You really shouldn't have favourites you know!"

"But she's so like….." He motioned towards the stone. A thought occurred to him. "So Jamie's a Malfoy!"

Rose rolled her eyes. "Bloody Hell Dad!"

"And he looks like me, old Draco woulda LOVED that," he chortled. "Almost wish he was still alive too! Almost…" he tailed off.

"Oh Dad, you old git, John's a lovely lad! I always think it's funny that old Scorpius made all his kids have normal names so they wouldn't be teased like him. I like to think I had something to do with that! And now our grandkids are married!" She shook her head. Ron laughed again.

Silence fell over the pair. Eventually Rose spoke again.

"Dad? Tell me the story about you and mum's first kiss again?"

Ron thought for a minute, cast his eyes skyward and thought for a minute. A grin passed over his face.

"The Battle? Or do you want the real story?"

Rose looked puzzled. "What real story?"

"The real story. About our first kiss. We always kept it a secret"

Rose stared, almost afraid of what was coming. "Go on then…" she said, warily.

"It was actually at your Uncle Bill's wedding! Dark spot round the back of the marquee, where we wouldn't get disturbed by Fred and George. Wasn't just kissing either!" , he turned to look at Rose with a mischievous and slightly smug look on his face.

"DAD!" Rose choked out, scandalised. "Really, I may be antiquated myself, but I still don't need to hear stuff like that about my parents!"

"What?" He shrugged, grinning. "She started it! I only felt her up a bit…."

The pair burst into fits of laughter. Rose shook her head. As he came to, she noticed tears in her fathers eyes, which he quickly brushed away. She took his hand again.

"She'd bloody kill me for telling you that. I always loved that little secret. Nothing else happened until the Battle though." His voice was hoarse and brittle now.

Rose brushed a few tears of her own away. "Come on Dad, lets go home. Hazel will be round soon, and you can pretend you remembered which one Jamie was, she'll like that." Ron snorted.

The rest of the day was spent quietly and fairly happily, Hazel came in and made a fuss of him and brought Jamie too, who turned out to be a dab hand at Wizards chess. Hugo phoned him from Australia, but spoke to Rose, because he still couldn't work the damn thing, and couldn't hear much now anyway! Ron retired that night early and reflected. He missed Hugo, and didn't see nearly enough of Rebecca, their little "accident". Little, he thought shaking his head. She's 67 for goodness sake! He laughed. He missed them all actually. Rose was his rock, and he would keep her close as much as he could, but she was getting on a bit herself and had her own family. The rest were long gone, Harry, Ginny, they'd been gone a good ten years at least. She didn't last long after him, he thought sadly. Lucky bugger. His other siblings, George, the last, had been gone four years as well. All his school friends. He had outlived them all, and lived the longest. His Hermione. He blinked the tears away, and closed his eyes.

He awoke some time later, didn't know how long. He felt a familiar presence, and a soft pressure on the bed behind him. He smiled.

"I wondered when you'd give in and come see me!"

"You git Ronald Weasley! You didn't have to tell her the ACTUAL story!"

He grinned more widely still. Without turning, he shrugged. "She liked hearing it!"

He turned to face her, feeling lighter, more content and easier than he had in years. She looked more beautiful than he had ever seen her, back to her twenties at least, hair again brown and bushy, brown eyes shining. She reached up and brushed a hair from his forehead.

"I've missed you so much. I've never really objected to you being muggleborn you know, I just blamed it for you dying before me" he choked.

"I know. I've missed you too darling, so much. I think its time you came with me, don't you?"

And with a contented sigh, and a beaming smile, he did.


End file.
